Posted 19 Nov 2012 — by The Dude
Alright, bitches, I’ve gone long enough without posting. So here’s some fucking shit while it’s still fresh in my mind (and I’m still tasting french toast…)
What the fuck, Rogue? Yes, everyone likes bacon. (Even vegetarians…) But it’s a fucking thing. So get the fuck over it and move on with your lives. Except this really doesn’t taste like bacon. Or maple, all that much. It tastes like smoked malts and tons of sugar. Now, that isn’t a terrible fucking thing. It just is. The aroma lingers on. I’m not thinking waffles and bacon and breakfast. I am thinking burnt donuts. It ain’t bad, but it ain’t good. I had friends in college who would char the hell out of Krispy Kreme glazed donuts on a grill. I’m a fan of smoke…from foods to, well, other things. And I’m also a fan of glazed donuts – Krispy Kreme in particular. But combining the two and namedropping bacon is a horrible mistake. It reeks of inauthenticity. Which is a thing I think Rogue tries to embody.
But then I got a fucking craving for some real fucking maple syrup on some french fucking toast with fucking scrambled eggs. And a goddamn KBS.
Kentucky fucking Breakfast Stout, motherfuckers.
Now this is like a 2010 or some shit. And, unfortunately, it lost some character in its old age. By that I mean carbonation. And heat of the bourbon. It makes sense, though. I love bourbon like a sister-wife, so I prefer BBA beers to have a fucking kick. This was gone and replaced by coffee and a little cocoa. Somehow it remained bitter. Coffee tends to absorb anything around it. So I’m rethinking my strategy on BBA stouts. The greener the better. I’m not going to sit and wait any longer…time to raid the cabinet and drink before they lose that precious burn! Well, I guess that may only apply to fucking coffee stouts. I’ll probably hang on to those barley wines for a while…
Still, this one did it righter than the fucking Voodoo donut bullshit. A flat coffee stout that had lost its accoutrements still whips the sweet fucking shit out of an overblown smoky IHOP syrup in a pink bottle any day of the fucking week. The Mikkeller Rauch Geek Breakfast I downed last night did the smoke 10x better. Fuck.
P.S. Celebration is out. See you ’round Christmas when it’s gone. Fuck all y’all!
Posted 23 Aug 2012 — by The Dude
Goddammit I have been waiting a hell of a long time to drink this fucking beer! But mostly because I forgot it was in my fridge.
First full-frame beer shots! Fuck yeah!
But holy fucking shitballs, this is a good beer. Rye double-fucking-IPA? Yes please! Aged on rye whisky barrels? Yes please! Kosher? Who fucking knows…
The shit I’ve had from Schmaltz / HE’BREW / Coney before has seriously been lacking in goodness, save for the Lenny’s. But this shit takes it to a new fucking level. Sweet, spicy, with a fucking meanass but smooth whiskey bite, RIPA on RYE is fucking amazing. So many badass flavors in my mouth right now. I don’t even want to finish this beer, because I don’t want it to be gone! It seriously might be a new desert island beer. I’d probably try to fuck it and create a whole new civilization of amazingness, though.
Beer Eugenics would be the next big thing. Watch out.
You know what? Fuck Chick-fil-A. Fuck their politics. Fuck their homophobia. Fuck their frivolous lawsuits against small businesses. Fuck them in their stupid asses.
First of all, fuck this place right in the fucking eye. When the best thing you can do food-wise is fucking barbecue sauce, you’re probably gonna be fucked.
The worst Cuban in town.
Mac’s is yet another chain BBQ joint popping up in town based on the ever-popular “tits-and-TVs” model pioneered by Hooters and patronized by the whitest of Philistines around. I thought those people already had Carolina AIDS House and Liberty Tap room to inhabit when they needed mediocre beer and a rapey atmosphere when visiting downtown. This place is one more potential arsonage.
If you have a beer that’s on the menu that’s a stout and a customer orders it and gets a double IPA, apologize and take it back. Don’t tell the customer that’s what it’s supposed to be. Don’t fucking applaud yourself for being willing to take it back if the customer doesn’t like it. And don’t fucking up-sell me on a bigger serving because it “has more IPAs.” I don’t fucking know what that means – I guess it has something to do with being a double IPA that’s advertised as a fucking imperial stout. Yes, the beer list was fucking impressive. But the staff didn’t know shit. Not even the bartender, who got the fucking server to tell me I had ordered an IPA when the menu clearly says “RUSSIAN IMPERIAL STOUT.” We had to explain to her that a stout is supposed to be dark. So, 45 minutes after arriving, I finally get a fucking beer – a Southern Tier 2X Stout. A safe bet. Because it didn’t say 2X IPA. I’ll count my fucking blessings
My food would have been cold had it not taken 30 minutes to arrive.
A stout and a pulled-pork Cuban, that’s all the Dude wanted. Based on the menu, this is the most interesting Cuban in town. Based on the food that was served, this Cuban is the fucking weakest in town, even compared to the shit you get at the grocery store. Bland-ass no-taste fucking meat, dry and boring. And where the fuck are my pickles?
Fuck this place. The last straw was when the fucking server pointed out that she didn’t charge me for the beer that I didn’t order that I sent back. Thanks, hun. You’re a fucking saint.
Flypaper exists for a reason. It lures the flies in from other places they might roam and traps them there.